


White Out

by neversaydie



Series: cock it and pull it [9]
Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Closeted Character, Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pre-Canon, Secret Relationship, Snow, Snow Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 04:45:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13826769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neversaydie/pseuds/neversaydie
Summary: "I'm not saying it was abadidea to schedule this during the storm of the-""I get it! My bad! Sorry I didn't think to check the weather two months in advance!" Jack holds his hands up as Sammy throws himself onto the hotel bed in frustration, flopping back with his head hanging off the edge so he doesn't have to look at his producer.He's hungover and really doesn't need this shit.[Jack and Sammy get stuck in a blizzard while trying to promote their show, and Sammy realises something important.]





	White Out

"I'm not saying it was a _bad_ idea to schedule this during the storm of the-"

"I get it! My bad! Sorry I didn't think to check the weather two months in advance!" Jack holds his hands up as Sammy throws himself onto the hotel bed in frustration, flopping back with his head hanging off the edge so he doesn't have to look at his producer. He's hungover and really doesn't need this shit.

There are two beds in the room, even if only one of them has been slept in. Sammy might be a little more relaxed when they're away from home - even holding Jack's hand for a minute on the way back from the bar last night, because it was dark and this is New York and nobody looks at each other (and mainly because he was drunk) - but this is still a work trip and appearances still need to be maintained.

Although, he'll admit that the wet t-shirt contest Shotgun Sammy was supposed to judge at a local station being cancelled… is a relief. The storm has cost them some opportunities that he's not thrilled about - considering they flew out here to try and get _Shotgun Saturday Nights_ syndicated on a major digital network, and now the meeting has been postponed indefinitely due to the weather - but an opportunity to avoid the stress of pretending to leer is always welcome.

"It looks awesome out there, though," Jack sounds fascinated, and Sammy raises his head to snark again before he takes in the scene and closes his mouth with an audible click.

Jack is leaning against the window frame, nose practically pressed to the glass and breath misting up in front of him as he watches the strange blue light and swirling flakes with wonder. Sammy props himself up on one elbow and watches him, annoyance forgotten in the face of how naive his boyfriend looks - young and open like they're still back in that tiny college studio, rambling about ghosts on campus.

"I forget how Californian you are, sometimes," he figures Jack must be enthralled if he doesn't make some kind of offended comment at that, so Sammy rolls off the bed and snugs up behind him, hooking his chin over Jack's shoulder and his arms around his waist. "Have you ever even seen snow before?"

"On TV," he murmurs, leaning back against Sammy as they both look out over the modest view: half of next door's fire escape and a little of the street beyond. The streets are practically deserted, only the black-ant tracks of footprints quickly being covered up showing that anyone was ever there at all.

After a minute or two of quietly watching the weather swirl, Sammy presses a kiss to Jack's neck and lets him go with a sly smile.

"Let's go get a cup of coffee."

"In this? For real?" Jack spins around, excited, before adult logic steps in and he pauses. "I'm gonna freeze to death."

And Sammy, the bastard who grew up with actual weather and packed a real jacket for this trip, just laughs.

 

 

Even if he won't act on it in public, Sammy has to admit that Jack looks _adorable_ \- bundled up in all the clothes he packed along with Sammy's too-big jacket zipped up over the top.

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay?" He says, muffled through the scarf wrapped around his face. They haven't even left the lobby yet. Sammy can't, he's too much. "I'd be a shitty producer if I let the talent freeze."

"I'd be a shitty guy if I let you freeze," Sammy points out quietly, definitely not almost accidentally saying the word _boyfriend_ aloud, as he opens the door and lets Jack walk out ahead of him. He's wearing a couple of hoodies and several shirts, and is fully aware this is a terrible idea, but he can't not see this reaction. "Besides, I know how to layer."

"Oh my god," Jack isn't listening, standing in the street and looking around, scarf falling from his face as he gapes. "It's like being inside a cloud."

He's a bright spot of colour in the midst of the swirling blankness, looks like an island of life and everything good in a sea of nothing, and Sammy…

Sammy's in love.

Fuck.

"We could do that with fog and not turn into icicles," Sammy points out, coughing out the lump that's suddenly formed in his throat and determinedly pushing _that_ breeze-block thought down for another time. Hopefully the twelfth of never.

Fortunately, Jack is distracted by examining the snowflakes sticking to his gloves curiously, before turning his face to the sky and sticking his tongue out to catch some, and it breaks Sammy's internal tension by making him laugh.

"Come on, Mr Professional. There's gotta be a Starbucks somewhere," he picks a direction that doesn't throw snow into his eyes and starts walking, caught off guard when Jack catches up and slings an arm around his shoulders. "Hey-"

"This was the best idea," Jack squeezes him quickly, clonking their heads together with accidental force - only mitigated by the _Shotgun_ beanies which were all they brought with them - before letting him go. "Thanks, Sammy."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't blame me when the novelty wears off," he can't keep the smile off his face as he pretends to grumble though, and Jack barks out a laugh as they begin their red-nosed, half-frozen quest for caffeine.

Sammy, inevitably, catches a horrible cold and spends the rest of the trip croaking his way through guest broadcasts. Jack feels terrible about it, foisting tea and honey and non-drowsy cough medicine on him relentlessly in an effort to mitigate his guilt, but Sammy finds he doesn't even mind the predicament - his boyfriend seeing snow was worth it.

That's when he knows he's really got it bad for Jack... and realises just how much trouble he's in.


End file.
